Another Jack Sparrow Fic
by panther7x
Summary: Ha! Grand Adventurer the Infamous Jack Sparrow...a good man? A kind uncle? A loving brother? Will Jack become rather mushy and OOC or toss his abnoxious, tune-deaf niece overboard? The answer lies somewhere in between.
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            **Hello. I'm jumping on the paddy-wagon and writing a Jack Sparrow fic, mainly because all the mary-sues and random fan girl insertions are beginning to drive me insane. No offense intended to any writers of the afore-mentioned stories, I'm just a narrow-minded grouch. Oh, and I'd like to thank my friend Kristin who mentioned that Jack would be happy with just his "rum, ship and the occasional wench."**

            Mr. Gibbs could not have said precisely when it started. It crept up, like fog, so slowly that one didn't notice it until it was painfully obvious. By then, everyone was thinking it, but nobody mentioned it. Except Anna-Maria. The whole issue had been going over in her mind all morning, and, seeing no solution, she decided to bring it to the attention of a mate. As she tied down some rigging Mr. Gibbs passed her. Anna-Maria tapped him on the shoulder. 

            "What be eatin' the cap'n?"  She accosted. 

            "So you've seen it too," Mr. Gibbs responded. He risked a quick glance at the "cap'n."  Jack was at the Helm-indeed the man seemed to have grown roots at the Helm. He still moved as though slightly drunk, still peered at random places, and still gestured a lot. But there was an odd stoop to his shoulders and sadness in his manner. 

            Mr. Gibbs scratched his whiskers, "It be mighty strange, what with all the luck we've been blessed with." 

            Anna-Maria gave a quick nod.   
            True, the _Black Pearl's endeavors had been prosperous. They'd hung around the Caribbean Sea for a time, before heading up north to pillage there. Weighed down with cargo, trading vessels were sitting ducks. Plunder had been good. However, they did encounter a flotilla of British warships. Although the __Pearl__ was flying England's colors, the warships showed a tad too much interest. So, from some secret corner of his cabin, Jack dug out a flag signaling 'plague was aboard.' The warships left. A few weeks later, two Spanish privateering vessels tried to board _them_. The _Pearl_ raced off, the Spanish pirates gave chase, and one of their boats exceeded her partner and gained on the __Pearl__. Then, Jack had the __Pearl__ stop, turn, and fire on the lone Spanish ship. Suddenly under attack, the Spaniards gave up and got looted. By the time their second ship caught up the __Pearl__ was gone. Then just last week they'd acquired a smallish boat, much like the one Jack had "borrowed" from Anna-Maria. Anna-Maria pointed this out, rather loudly, but Jack said they'd tow it until they needed it. _

            They were lawless, shifty, but bloody rich thieves. They divided their plunder, stopped at some seedy port and spent it. Thus impoverished, they set sail again for treasure. Or, in the captain's case, to slake his taste for thrills. 

                        The weather was balmy, the wind filled the sail, and Jack sank deeper into melancholy. 

            Mr. Gibbs leaned against a rail, "I wager it be all this good fortune. Cap'n just wants a challenge and he is disheartened he's not getting it."

            Anna-Maria held her chin as she thought, "Dats not it," she concluded in her shrill voice, "You and I know Jack bettar dan most anyone.               And I know he will take what he can git and be happy." 

            Mr. Gibbs took a swing from his trusty canteen. "You know what," he determined after swallowing, "We'll be scrubbing down the 'ull soon. Anyone can be depressed 'bout _that_."  ('Scrubbing down the hull' involved partly beaching the ship at low tide, turning it on its side, smearing the wood with all manner of hot sticky-smelling stuff, and repeating on the other side.) 

            "Stop whining!" Anna-Maria snapped. Mr. Gibbs raised a placating hand. 

            "Calm down! Its frightful bad luck to loose your head like that." 

            Her eyes narrowed. She'd never quite forgiven him for suggesting it was bad luck to have a woman on board. 

            Mr. Gibbs took another drink, "Besides, Jack's probably just mulling over that letter."

            Anna-Maria started, "what letter?"

Mr. Gibbs seemed to choke on his rum, "Ye mean ye don't know anything about it?"

            "No, why don't you tell me?"

            Mr. Gibbs grinned like a fox and began his tale:

            "See, it was like this. When we was in port last I separated me self from the rest of the crew, to have a look-see around by me self, ye might say. Well, so I goes along by me self and I gets into this suspicious-looking neighborhood. Its all quiet and dark when from out of the shadows comes three monstrous men! The first one is a huge shark of a man with fine lace and silk over 'is hard muscles. The other two be his African body-guards, like he needs 'em, but they are all big and their eyes shine wickedly smart. So they all surrounds me but I pulls out my 

cutlass and tells 'em to go off or I'll send them to meet the devil! But they just laugh, cruel and wicked chuckles ye might say, and they attack. But not all at once, mind you, 'cause they don't think I'll be tough, but oh no, ye see…"

            Anna-Maria's visibly grew more and more irritated. Mr. Gibbs described how he vanquished his three assailants by slitting their throats…

            "…and then, as he lay bleedin', the man presses this letter into my hand. Its old and torn and yellow and the 

man says, 'I be carrying this with me for twenty years-'"

            "Twenty years?" Anna-Maria snapped skeptically. 

            "That is what he said, I swear on me mother's grave!" Gibbs protested, "then, he tells me to git this letter to Cap'n Jack Sparrow. Now I know you be thinking that this sort of man-"

            "What I be thinkin' is that you are fulla-"

            "Shhhhh!" Mr. Gibbs cautioned.

            "Then stop telling me tales and tell me what really happened!"

            Mr. Gibbs growled, scratched his whiskers and tried again, "I was in an empty tavern when this blind, one-legged sailor-"

            "None of dis! Before I beat you into a big bloody pulp tell me how you got dat letter!" Anna-Maria growled waving her finger in his face. 

            "I was in a pub and the bloody bartender asks me if I knew a Jack Sparrow and I says yes and he says he got this letter from a man from New York neigh a year ago with the request to pass it off to a sailor named Sparrow and so I gets the letter and gives it to the Cap'n!" 

            Mr. Gibbs, red in the face, turned from the woman and marched of. Anna-Maria held her hand in her chin. Her hard eyes glistened. What about the letter put Jack into a mood? A woman, perhaps? A death? She shrugged, "Tis Jack's business, not me own."  

            Jack studied his compass for no particular reason. Gibbs and Anna-Maria's murmurings and side-longs glances had not gone unnoticed. They were talking about him, obviously. Jack liked it when people talked about him-to an extent. Periodically, it was rather irritating. Well, gossip could go either way, depending on what they said. 

           Jack peered at the compass, sighed a little, and slammed it shut. He locked the helm in place and strided down the steps to the main deck. 

            "Anna-Maria! Gibbs! Might aye 'ave a word with you?" Without looking to see their response, Sparrow  sort of twisty-walked into the cabin. _His _cabin. However, it had altered little from previous ownership. Except, Barbossa's apple centerpiece was looking brownish, and a jumble of clocks littered the red table. Jack sprawled in his chair, rested his feet on the table, and took up a clock. He then commenced in removing all the gears from it. Each small disc was placed in a growing pile of discs. By this time the two other pirates had entered and were 

watching Jack at work. Anna-Maria stared as if to say, "he's finally cracked hasn't he?" 

            "What's with the clocks, sir?" Mr. Gibbs asked bemused. Jack flashed a wry smile to himself, "It's only a slight hobby I've managed to pick up. A way to unwind, in fact. No pun intended," he added.  Anna-Maria took a seat, deciding that as long as Jack led the crew well, he could have whatever dam hobby he wanted. 

            "What 'ave you to tell us, captain?" she asked. Jack paused in his pursuits. He still held the clock and gave the impression he forget he held it.  His dark, tattooed eyes darted between the two. 

            "I am going away for some days, experimenting with that lovely little boat we 'ave been so stubbornly towing. In my absence, I shall be leaving you two in charge of _my _ship. Be sure she gets her hull repaired, preferably on _Selva__ Negra isle. I should arrive there in, probably, two weeks. Tops. Savvy?" _

            Mr. Gibbs and Anna-Maria shares the same thought: after a mutiny, two instances of being marooned, becoming a skeleton, shrewdly planning and plotting, and getting knocked senseless at least twice all to get his ship back Jack was willfully leaving it. Wonders never cease. 

            "Ah, Jack—_captain—_what errand posses you to leavin' the _Pearl?" Mr. Gibbs posed. Jacked stared wearily, distantly at the wall and stroked a mustache. Then, with new zest, he stood, "Merely some matters to be attended to, in New York, in fact. Now, I would be much obliged if you aid me in obtaining provisions."_

            Anna-Maria and Mr. Gibbs followed Jack out of the cabin. When he was out of earshot, Mr. Gibbs whispered, "What do ye make of it?"

She shrugged, "We follow our orders and prepare the boat. But his wanting to leave da _Pearl is strange."_

"Actually," said Gibbs, "I was talking about the clock thing."

_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_)_))

            Night is more brilliant on the sea than any other place. With clear, dark skies, the stars come out in all their scintillating power. The canopy firmament curves until it meets the sea. 

            Jack lay on his back in the boat. Just dozing, it wasn't a good idea to completely sleep. It was a sturdy little boat, much nicer than Anna-Maria's. Hers always had a layer of wet in it. Actually, she_ had_ been blessed when Jack borrowed her boat. It could've sunk on her in the middle of nowhere. She should be thanking Jack! No way would he ever suggest that to her face, however. His cheek still hurt. 

            Jack felt himself falling asleep. He rolled over, sat up, and stared around, and wondered why he was doing this. At first, a flood of grief had spurred his actions. As he always did, the pirate followed his instincts. But now, Jack was _unsure_ for the first time in a long time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter and twisted it open with flourish. It was old, grubby, and dated from two years previous. Jack narrowed his eyes, and lifted the letter a little higher to the moon. And he read it again. 

            "Jack, 

            "If you are reading this, I shall already be dead. I know, it's a strange way to say 'hello' after all this time. How long has it been? Fifteen, seventeen years? Much has happened since you left. Now I think of it, the world has simply been turned upside down and left me in this state. It's hard deciding where to begin. Well, as you know, I was living with Thomas and that repulsive woman called his wife. When he passed away, he left everything to her. For my life, I have no idea what possessed Thomas to dislike you and I so! Perhaps I shall ask him about it 

if I see him in the other world…but let's not dwell on such bitter things.

            "I was saved from that unhappy place by a most amazing man. His name was Henry Worthing and he was a real nobleman; he had family, grace, education. It's difficult to explain how we met, but we were in love before we knew it. Real love, Jack. We cared for each other and worshiped each other and would have died many times over for each other. I wish you could've met him.   I know its not like me to be so gushy, but I'm still devoted to him. 

            "But Henry's family disapproved for the marriage. I wasn't 'high-class' enough, I was 'disappointing.' Thus, they disowned him outright, leaving us only some land in the colony of New York. Henry and I moved to the New World. Life was difficult but we had each other. And, you know, Jack, I found that's what really matters in the end. But it was over too fast. Henry was killed in a freak accident. He was over in the city looking after ours affairs when a runaway horse trampled him in the street. It's an outrageous, horrible end for such a man! Well, the 

Worthing family took back our home. By that time our daughter, Katherine, was four. We moved to the city and I took a job as a seamstress. This is when you come back into the picture. 

            "I seldom read papers, but when the boy mentioned a pirate by the name of Sparrow…well, I bought the paper and learned you were alive yet; and what's more turned to piracy. To be frank, I'm not all that surprised, you were always rather bold and rebellious. As much as I dislike lawlessness, I'd commit murder to see you now. Oh, Jack! I've got tuberculosis, and the doctor told me I've not long to live so I'd better get my affairs together and all I can think of is my daughter Kathy. She's just a little girl who's totally alone. She's to be put in a foundling's "home" but I daren't think what life is like there. Can you realize how desperate this is, that I would write to you who I haven't seen in fifteen years and beg for your help? If you can remember how close we were as children, or if you have any compassion in you, please look after her. She's on Rodger's Street, just present my signature from this letter and they're sure to release her. The nurse who kindly wrote this letter for me, as I can no longer hold a pen, will send it south. In good faith, it will find you. Jack, you had a good heart last time we met. I know its still there even after fifteen years. 

            "Your Twin Sister, 

                        "Jane Henry Worthing 

            Jack held it and fell limply back on the deck. So, Jane was dead. Jack had felt sorrow at first but now he felt hollow. Jane was like a memory from another life. A sweet one, but still a memory.  Why was he going back into that other life? It was ridiculous. Really, really stupid. Who was he to play hero? It was almost funny imaging himself 'looking after' his niece. He read the last line again. "Good heart." _ I'm a bloody pirate! He thought, __Jane didn't know what she wrote. Jack rolled over. He was a pirate, and all that it implied; thief, kidnapper…but he _

really hadn't killed anyone and he didn't remember torturing prisoners. Negotiating always worked well, and didn't they just want to pillage and plunder anyway? _That was the attitude that lost you the _Pearl, Barbossa had said, which surprised Jack at the time. But, now, it made sense.  Sometimes Jack did stupid things…… like save Elizabeth……thrice……then he did try to sleep with……but he'd been drunk then so did that count?......but Will had called him 'a good man'…what incited him to say that?......Jack just wanted his ship……why wasn't he on the 

_Pearl?......oh, yes, Kathy……just check up on her……no sense to bring her……who bloody well cares about good or bad?......it throws a nice wrench into life when you think of such things...............Jack's train of thought de-railed and he suddenly feel asleep. _

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanx. **


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            **Many thanks to you fine reviewers! Its people like you who make FFN fun.  **

**_Braveheart_------ **I'm really sorry to hear your grandfather has passed away. When my grandfather died, I found playing the piano or writing was good release for heartache. Thanks for your encouraging words and hope you get through this hard time. ****

**_Imp_-------hey, thanks for all your help, seriously. I just hope I can aid you in your fanfics as much as you're aiding mine. Till later.**

**_Rat_------Anyway, your review made me laugh. Well, by killing off Jane and making Kathy very young, I'm hoping to avoid a "Mary-Sue" label. The story concept may be a little cliché, but I intend to add enough originality to entertain the readers. Thanks again. **

**_Elf-Vulcan_-----****Interesting screen name, I like. Anyway, thanks for saying that it's well-written. That really made me happy. **

            One thing to say for New York: it never got as bad as Tortuga. Pirates often came to port at that city, and as long as they kept a low profile the authorities tended to look the other way. Simple reason was that the city needed money. So, cheaper goods were always welcome, legal or otherwise. Besides, you couldn't always tell a man was a pirate just by looking at him. Unless, of course, he was abnormally rich. Gentlemen of fortune, then, had the run of less respectable neighborhoods. Unfortunately, with the passing of time and changing of governors, authorities had been tougher of late.

            Jack found himself on a modest street. Little houses walled it like ill-built birdhouses, each contorted into the small space between its neighbors. Almost, in fact, like they were pushing each other for room. Dogs, cats, rats, street urchins, mud, carts, feces, other pedestrians, and random drunks sprinkled the avenues. He was glad to notice several taverns, but, sadly, it was only nine in the morning and most weren't opened yet. Besides, the really good pub in town was "The Sign of the Horse Head," and Jack wasn't anywhere near it. 

            After meandering up and down the streets Jack discovered the city had changed a great deal since his last visit. It seemed best to avoid a long walk and simply ask where he was. On the other side of the street and elderly woman manned a cart of apples. Her open face and honest features assured Jack that she would give directions. 

            The pirate sauntered across the street, approached the woman and begin, "It appears you are familiar with the neighborhood, love-"

"Don't you dare call me 'love' you vile chowder-head!" The little old lady's face contorted into a snarl. Jack stared at her single dirty tooth. 

            "What are you staring at, you vagabond? Leave or I'll scream!" she shrieked and yanked out a cutlass. 

            Jack blinked and gestured, "You really don't-" 

"Shut up!" She yelled and raised her cutlass higher. People in the streets gave the pair funny looks.

            Jack customarily cringed; he had no intention of being stabbed by a psycho old woman.

            "I had really hoped you could inform me whether this street meets up with Rodger."       

The woman's infuriated, horrible look sort of dissolved into her face.

            "Rodger? Eh," she croaked, "yeah, in a few more blocks," she raised her knife again, "Now be off!" 

            Jack made his way down Rodger's street, munching on the apple he had palmed more from annoyance than hunger. Someone, obviously, had quit trying to pave the street. The mud and free-standing water smelt like an open sewer. Most of the tenements seemed to be held together only by prayer. Ill-clad people scurried down the streets. Most of them ignored Jack or gave him a generous half of the sidewalk. 

            Jack drunkenly stepped over a sleeping hobo and paused before a tenement. He puts his hands on his hips and peered at it for some moments. 

It was an old Dutch house of cracking stone. The steps to the paint less door had disintegrated. 

            Several boys milled about the front playing dice, a girl of about fifteen juggled two squalling infants. A tiny boy with big eyes curled himself into a step. Jack decided that either their parents had been over-productive or he'd found his place. 

            His dark eyes darted back and forth until they rested on the girl. 

            "Would you mind telling me if the master's at home?" He asked in a slurred voice. 

            "Yes," answered the girl, adjusting one infant on her hip, "what business 'ave you wit 'im?" 

            "Just an errand, love," he said flippantly and hoped up the 'steps' to the 'door.' It was ajar. Without breaking stride Jack entered. 

            Inside was a smallish room, taken up mostly by a staircase leading to the second level, and there was a door at the far end leading to the kitchen, perhaps. The room itself was grey and sparse. There only was a bookshelf, a desk, and a man. 

            This man was, in fact, one of the largest Jack had ever seen. He was simply…big. He had broad shoulders, hands like paddles and a great deal of flab about the middle. However, he was rather well dressed. Especially considering the neighborhood. 

The man wrote at the desk, but paused when Jack came in. 

            The pirate stopped as if to regain his balance. The man studied him from under suspicious eyebrows. 

            "No worries mate," Jack said with a ghost of a smile, "I'll not be encroaching long on your time."    

            The man sat down his pen but did didn't take his eyes off Jack. 

            "Let's get one thing clear, _sir," he rumbled from the depths of his chest, "I am not your 'mate,' so don't call me that. You __may call me Mr. _

Stuyvesant. Secondly, who are you and what do you want?"

            "Name's Smith, or Smithy if ye like," Jack responded, sitting on the edge of the desk, "Aye 'ave been informed of a lass named Katherine 

Worthing's in your charge. Now, Aye've a letter from her mum, as it were, authorizing me to take her."

Jack pulled up the note and displayed his twin's signature before Stuyvesant's eyes. The big man didn't even blink. 

            "Worthing, eh? Worthing. Yes, I look after her. But I can't release her to you. It's impossible."

            "Impossible?" Jack narrowed his tattooed eyes and leaned forward confidingly, "It appears to be unavoidable, mate-_Mr. _Stuyvie." 

            Stuyvesant half snorted. "I promised a gentleman down in Barbados three children to train as servants. Worthing and two others'll be leaving 

next week."

            "Any three children?" Jack suggested in a slyly. 

            "No-George, Nelly, and Katherine. They're bonded till the age of twenty-one. It's a good business practice, cheaper than getting slaves." Mr. 

Stuyvesant coughed-thundered rather-into his hammer-like fist. He turned with authority to Sparrow, "So, now that you know, you best be leaving."

             Jack stroked his mustache and began intently, "Really, Aye can't see much of a problem in merely seeing the girl," his head rose and feel with his inflections, "So, if you would be so kind as to point out where she be, I'll be on my way." 

            Jack's words were polite, but his tone carried a gritty edge. Mr. Stuyvesant heard it.

            "They're not here,' his mouth moved like a box, "they're out workin.' Never git enough money to look out for all of 'em and myself. A man has to eat."

            "Certainly," agreed the pirate, glancing at Stuyvesant's ample stomach. 

            "So you best be off and don't think about waiting here for them," the man waved his quill in Jack's face, "I'll not have visitors haunting my house, reading over my shoulder and the like…"

            Jack drew a fist-sized purse from his belt, and fished out a small silver coin. He held the treasure in his palm and held it, beguilingly. 

            "This ought compensate for your time fairly well enough." 

            Mr. Stuyvesant started. The sound of wailing baby became very loud. He finally blossomed into a toothy smirk and looked Jack up and down with new eyes.

            "I'd say it just covers it," and he snatched the coin. Jack pressed his palms together in an expression of thanks. 

            By now, the infant's atonal concert reached a crescendo. Mr. Stuyvesant pounded on the desk, "VANESSA! Get in here!"

            Jack watched the girl rush in with the infants. 

            "I thought I told you to keep 'em quiet?"

            "I'm trying, sir," she murmured bitterly. 

            Mr. Stuyvesant threw up his hands, "Just get these bloody noisemakers upstairs and start supper! It's getting on to evening." He shook his head, "can't a man get some peace anywhere?"

            The girl flung him an expression of disgust and fled the room. Jack's smile hid behind a bite of the apple. The whole situation appeared somewhat amusing. 

            Mr. Stuyvesant returned to his papers. Jack strolled about the room, inspected the staircase, peered up the stairs, and watched the sun slowly set from a broken window. He found the whole house abnormally clean for harboring a lot of people. 

            Jack faced the bookshelf. Dusty, lonely yellow tomes littered it. Most had such titles as, _A__ Exhaustive Commentary on the Life and Times of _

_James C. Peabody and __The__ Introvert's Progressive Guide to Social Integration. Social Integration? _

            Jack wondered why the books remained filthy and the rest of the establishment spotless. Obviously, Stuyvie must keep something valuable hidden there, or else he'd have the bookshelf cleaned. Jack innocently reached out and innocuous hand…

            "KEEP YOUR FINGERS TO YOURSELF MR. SMITH!" Stuyvesant erupted to his full height. 

            "I'm terribly sorry but you see I've such a weakness for social integration," Jack said with mock-sincerity. Judging from Stuyvie's reaction, something precious was in the bookcase, if only the opportune moment would come along… 

            Mr. Stuyvesant grunted and studied Sparrow suspiciously. 

            The opportune moment, to Jack's annoyance, never came along. Mr. Stuyvesant finished with his papers and stacked them neatly away in his desk. Apparently, he wasn't about to let Jack out of his sight so he merely sat there, watching him out of narrow eyes, not even trying to make small talk. 

Sparrow had returned to his perch on the desk. He leaned against the wall and sort of dozed. 

            It grew gradually darker. Vanessa prepared something that smelt awful in the kitchen. The babies never did shut up. However, Jack soon heard a new noise rushing at the door. Before another second has passed a horde of children packed the room. He'd never seen so many people under twelve in one place.  They were all small and young and dirty and noisy. There clothes seemed rather patchy but sufficient, and their eyes darted to and fro like scared rabbits. 

            Most of the stared at the stranger who had the audacity to _recline _on Mr. Stuyvesant's desk! They turned and whispered to each other. Jack, however, couldn't help wondering which pathetic orphan was his niece. 

            Mr. Stuyvesant had been like a statue. Now he was like a bear, standing up and pulling a rod from his desk. 

            "All right, shut up all of you," he barked. Like magic, a hush fell on the horde. Stuyvesant held out a paddle-like palm, "Now, present your earnings."

            One at a time, each child placed a few coins in their master's hand. Having paid their toll, they were permitted to continue to the kitchen. A few kids, unfortunately, had no coins. Stuyvesant promptly boxed their ears and told them to go upstairs, where he'd 'deal with them later.' Also, there was one boy who was either mad or brave enough to whisper in Jack's general direction, "Is he a pirate?"

            Mr. Stuyvesant tensed like a deer in the headlights. Then, he swiftly clasped the boy and delivered a few blows. "We'll have no talk of suchfoolishness!" he snarled at the kid and threw him back in line. 

            Jack, however, curiously scanned for a girl who reminded him of Jane. As the horde thinned out he grew perplexed. 

            "Look, Stuyvie," Jack said, up starting, "Aye be necessitated to return to my ship-" (it felt good to finally say _my_ ship) "-and Aye still need to see the girl. So, where she be?"  

            Mr. Stuyvesant blinked his watery eyes. He turned to the few remaining kids, "All right, where is Katherine?" 

            They stared up at his Goliath form and trembled dumbly. 

            "Vanessa!" he then shouted. 

            "What?" answered the girl stalking out of the kitchen.

            "Where's Katherine?" 

            "I know not," Vanessa said quickly and turned away. Mr. Stuyvesant grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. 

            "Yes you do. Answer me." He shook her. Jack furrowed his brow at the superfluous force. 

            Vanessa cringed, "She's in the kitchen. Girl had no money so she came in through the back window." 

            Mr. Stuyvesant turned red and pushed his victim away. He turned to Jack.

            "Satisfied?"

            "Oh, exceedingly," Jack assured him, twitching his nose. 

            Stuyvesant disappeared into the kitchen and, a moment later, reappeared dragging a girl by the arms. 

            "This man wants to have a chat with you, Katherine," Stuyvesant said thrusting the girl forward. 

Jack looked her over. The girl was about six or seven. She was tiny, and her dirty blond hair fell in a thin wave down her back. Freckles splattered her pale-if not dirty-face. Those freckles were the same dark brown of her eyes. Sparrow sought some resemblance to Jane, but found very little other than something about the eyes. Kathy was obviously more a Worthing than a Sparrow.

            _She'd be dead within a week if I was to bring her with me, _Jack decided. There seemed no use in staying, so Jack decided on leaving, but the girl stepped forward before anything else happened. 

            "Are you my uncle?" she asked innocently. Like the others, Kathy had the scared rabbit look in her eye. However, it was muted by curiosity. 

            "Aye," Jack responded. This was rather interesting. 

            "My mum told me about you," she said, fascinated by Jack's outlandish person, "and about the song." 

            That was very interesting. Jack put the girl up on the desk, much to Stuyvesant's agitation. "What song was that, love?"

            "The 'yo-ho' one," Kathy said, a little distracted. She was sitting on the _desk! Mr. Stuyvesant would be furious.__ Jack, however, smiled. So, _

Jane was less proper than she'd pretended to be, teaching her child that song. Whatever had dear Henry thought? 

            "Is this place to your liking?" Jack asked.

            "Huh?"

            "Do you like it here?" Jack rephrased the question. 

            Kathy shot a sidelong glance at Stuyvesant. She nodded. 

            "All right, Mr. Smith," Stuyvesant stepped forward pushing the girl off the desk, "that's long enough. I've got to get the little tikes off to bed." 

He grasped her bony arm in one huge hand. 

            "You are absolutely right," Jack said, nodding and gesturing, "but Aye shall be, in reality, taking this girl with me." 

Kathy lit up, but cringed as Stuyvesant tightened his grip. 

            "As I told you, _sir, it is impossible. So, be gone before I have you thrown out." Stuyvesant cast his shadow over Jack. If it was a matter of muscle, _

Stuyvesant could make good his threat. The pirate, however, pulled out his purse. 

            "Those generous people in Barbados must be paying you an awfully lot for these brats, are they not?" Jack began in spiel, going into negotiating mode, "but Aye can give you an awfully lot as well. And what's more, you can then select a forth pathetic youngster to sell off, leaving you with a greater sum than you started with. What do you say, Stuyvie?" Jack had been slowly dropping coins from his purse into his palm, never taking his eyes away from Stuyvesant. The man slowly let go of Kathy.

            "Give me the whole purse, and I'll give you the brat." 

            Jack smiled and nodded a little, "Agreed." 

            As Stuyvesant ordered Kathy to get her things, Jack put the coins back into the purse. 

            "But I don't have anything," the girl said.

            "That's fortunate," Jack broke in, "we can go now, then." 

            He began to make for the door but Stuyvesant laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. 

            "The purse, Mr. Smith." 

            Jack narrowed his eyes, nodded, "Right."

             The pirate tossed the purse onto the desk, took the girl's wrists, and toddled out the door. 

            Stuyvesant laughed at the foolish man. What could _he _ever want with that girl? Well, no matter, Stuyvesant had made a good trade. He picked the purse up from the desk and shook it a little. It made a satisfying jingling sound. Smiling, Stuyvesant poured the contents into his palm. And stopped. Blinked. Dropped them down to the floor. Then, in horror, knelt down to reexamine them. That only confirmed Mr. Stuyvesant's fears. The purse was not full of coins but gears removed from clocks!

            Jack placed the real bag of coins back into his belt- reflecting that the best trick old William had ever taught him was the slight of hand. Mission accomplished; time for a drink. Not far down the dark street was "the Sign of the Horse's Head," the tavern with the finest rum in New York. Jack, however, suddenly remembered his new shadow. 

            Kathy followed him at a respectful distance, singing at the top of her lungs. Actually "belting" would have been a better word. The poor dear had absolutely no sense of pitch. Or rhythm. To make it worse, she skipped. Or did something sort a cross between jumping and tip-toeing. Her antics echoed up and down the empty, dark street and Jack cringed every time he heard it. Yes, it was indeed time for a drink. 

            They came to the entrance of the Horse's Head. 

            "Just do this one thing for ol' Jack," Sparrow said, setting Kathy on a convenient barrel, "stay right here. Aye'll return in just a few moments."

            Jack began turned away, but Kathy grabbed onto his sleeve, "where are you going?"

            Jack (sort of) straightened himself out, "right in there, love. Now be a good girl." 

            He started for the pub again but Kathy didn't let his arm go.

            "Do I have to stay here?"

            "Oh, for certain. Now, if you could release me shirt…" Jack turned, determined to make it to the door this time.

            "UNCLE JACK!!!!" She wailed so loudly a man across the street looked and laughed. Jack stopped still, his eyes got wide and his fingers splayed. 

            "May I ask you something," he began turning around, "you can stay here, by yourself, on a barrel, for_ five minuets. Be a big girl now, love, and stay put. Right? Good." _

            Jack left the barrel again. 

            "But what if you don't come back in five minuets?" Kathy wailed. Jack ignored her and took quicker strides to the tavern. 

            "UNCLE JACK!!!" The girl mournfully whined. 

            "Stow yer weapons" ordered a sign at the tavern's door that everybody ignored. 

            Ah, dim candles, small windows, and lots of rum. Life was good. 

            There was a horde of men assembled betting on a cock fight. Jack avoided a crowd and made for the bar. The Horse's Head had mightily large mugs full of the alcohol. Jack was only finishing off his first when a sudden blow to the head sent him wheeling to the floor. 

            The pirate waited for the world to stop spinning before sitting up, dazed. It appeared a brawl had broken out over the cock fight. The mass of wretches now fought each other with clubs and cutlass and guns and ropes and fists and teeth. The bloody cock itself attacked with spurred talons. 

            Jack rolled himself to his feet, blinking and trying to focus. He surveyed the fight until he realized that his hat had gone missing. Sparrow searched the tavern seemingly oblivious to the violence surrounding him. Jack finally saw it. He stooped to retrieve it, and a knife lodged in the wood where his head had been. 

            Having triumphantly recovered his hat and Jack set it lovingly on his head.  

            "Hey, what's all the ruckus 'ere?!" An authoritative voice slashed through the din. Jack spun around to face the door, where several soldiers in 

red had caught the attention of the rioters. 

            "If any of you throws one more bloody punch…" threatened the captain. 

            _Appear to be serious, for once. _Jack thought and looked for a back door. 

            He found it, and was soon outside in an alley, leaving the sound of Brits gleefully arresting drunks behind.

            _Now, where I be? _He thought, _Oh, just go round the block. Bloody kid's still waiting by the door. Dam cock fights. Least I still have me hat. _

            Jack had a nice, long walk. By the time he got back to the Horse's Head, most of the brawler's were gone. So was Kathy. 

            Sparrow stared stupidly at the vacant barrel like it had eaten the girl. Then he looked behind it and around it. Interesting. Little girls do not simply run off when you tell them to stay put. 

            The street was dark and empty, Jack noted. Kathy was quite gone.

            Suddenly, a certain atonal voice drifted through the tavern's door. Jack made his unbalanced way to investigate. Grasping the doorframe with one hand, he peered inside. Sparrow's eyes went wide and blank. 

            The captain and two of his cronies sat in the first stages of drunkenness. And Kathy stood on a table, singing 'Yo Ho Yo Ho a Pirates' Life For 

Me!' only she didn't know the words except "yo ho yo ho a pirates' life for me." Thus, she filled up the rest of the verses with "da-da-da-da-da-da-da-

da-da-da-DA-DA-da-da-DA-DA" and every so often stuck in "really bad eggs" or "yo-ho!" It was all painfully off-key and really, really loud. But, the inebriated captain didn't seem to mind. 

            Jack watched, felt something between horror and fascination. 

            "Eh, Kathy," he croaked. 

            The girl whirled around, "Oh, Uncle Jack I was afraid you were dead!"

            "I suppose that's why you were singing like that," Jack said flatly, and glanced and the captain. The man had a bit of spittle running down his cheek. He showed little inclination to move. Jack tipped his hat to the group and left the tavern, girl shadowing him. 

            "Goodbye lass," the captain hiccupped after them. 

            An onlooker who didn't see Kathy gave Jack a strange look.

            "Eh, Kathy," the pirate brought the girl next to him, "next time, when Aye tells you 'don't move,' you don't move. Same exact thing will occur if 

I say 'don't make any noise.' Honestly, you must follow my orders. It'll make things considerably easier. Savvy?"  

            "I thought you was my uncle," said the girl suspiciously. 

            "I am your uncle, love." Unfortunately. 

            "But my daddy says only mean people go into taverns."

            Wonderful! She was a daddy's girl!

            "Kathy," Jack really didn't have a temper but he sensed he'd be developing one very soon, "do us a favor. Don't talk."

            The girl followed mutely until they got to the wharf, and she saw Jack's boat.

            "Is this your ship?" She asked in awe. Jack hopped into it. 

            "I should hope not," he responded honestly, untying some ropes. Kathy stayed quiet and watched Jack at work. 

            "Jump in, love," Jack ordered when he noticed Kathy wasn't doing anything. However, the girl stared dully at the dark water. Her floppy blouse fell limply off one shoulder. 

            "We don't exactly have all night, darling."

Then, she sighed at length, "I can't swim."

**A/N---If you would, tell me how you think I'm handling Jack's character. Badly written characters are a pet peeve of mine, and I hate to be guilty of hypocrisy. Also, I'm not trying to make Kathy any extraordinary girl. She's actually based after kids I baby-sit. What's your impression? Basically, how do you like my story? -----------panther7x  **


	3. 3 Of 4

**Okay, let's make this A/N concise**

**1. How tall are Johnny Depp, Keira Knightly, and Orlando Bloom, respectively? Strange question will be explained later.**

**2.  I barely managed to squeeze this out before school begins. I need two weeks to get into my classes, at least, before I can do the final chapter.**

**3. A big thank you to all who reviewed!!**

**4. Who hear bothers to read A/N? Cuz I'm usually like 'shut up and get to the story!!!'**

            For the next three days the boat hugged the rocky coast. The sun shone bright and balmy. The sea, glistening a brilliant blue hue, was unusually calm. Seagulls frequented the boat, squawking and complaining before sailing away in the air. 

            A black blob trailed the boat off the port side. As the days continued the black speck gradually grew larger. Eventually, Jack made out its form with a spyglass. The 'glob' turned out to be a little, comfortable vessel. The private ship of some aristocrat, most likely. A nice prize, absolutely, but so far Jack didn't give it much attention. There were other preoccupying issues. 

            For starters, a girl is not a puppy. When you toss a girl into the water she will not automatically begin swimming. It dawned on Jack, as he studied the bubbles, Kathy was not going to surface. Irritated, he jumped in to save her. That should've ending the matter, yet the child insisted she could do it "by herself." She nearly drowned a second and third time. By then, Jack was rather irritated and ended the swimming lessons.

            The next day, Kathy kept to herself and kept quiet. That kept Jack happy. A quiet girl stayed out of trouble. However, the pirate soon found all his loose rope had been artfully braided. 

            Then there was the matter of the lime juice. She absolutely would not drink it. Not even when threatened with scurvy. From the sound of her screams and shouts Jack might've been killing her instead of suggesting she take her ration. Yet, when Jack drank his Kathy gulped down hers without a peep. 

            However, a feature of the landscape soon caught Jack's attention. A rocky peninsula jutted into the sea; too small to hide a dangerous vessel in ambush but large enough to conceal…say…Jack's fishing boat.

            Suddenly, the pirate remembered the comfortable vessel trailing them. The spy-glass was whipped out. Jack studied the ship delicately. It had open portholes. Interesting. He focused on the deck. The persons on it were clearly not sailors. And he spotted a woman or two. Very interesting. It appears to be some sort of passenger vessel, though whatever landsman would travel was a mystery to Jack.   

             Jack glanced back to the ship, to the rocks, and to a box of gunpowder. Like most ideas, he made it up as he went along. The boat gently drifted towards shore. 

            "Uncle, Jack, what's a nickname?" Kathy stood behind the pirate as he maneuvered the rudder.

            "Second name, sort of." Jack said inattentively. 

            "Then why do they call it a nickname?"

            "I have no idea. If you get a chance, ask 'they' for me."

            "Did my daddy have one?"

            "Probably," Jack glanced at the approaching ship. 

            "Did my mommy have one?"

            "She might 'ave."

            "What was it?"

            Jack positioned the boat behind the rocks. The cliff's tops just covered its stubby sails.

            "Kathy," Jack began, "Ay would like you to do a favor for me."

            "Ummmmmmmmm…." thought the girl, "what favor?" 

            Jack picked up his niece and stuck her in between two crates, "You are going to remain right here, while Ay go does some work."

            "Can I help?"

            Jack fought down a sobering mental image.  

            "You can assist me best, love, by just staying here. Maybe take a nap, perhaps?"

            Kathy protested that she was too old to take naps, but Jack had all ready forgotten her. He started mixing together some dynamite with rages and oils. Kathy came over and pulled on his beads.

            "I have to pee," she announced. Jack apparently didn't hear her. He finished his little smoke-bomb. Then, he sat back and awaited the ship. 

            "I really, really need to go." 

            Jack lolled lazily, "It truly is not necessary you inform me every time."  

            "But its _urrrrrr__-gent_._" _

            Thankfully, the ship appeared. Jack pulled his little boat out of its shelter. The boat, faster than the larger vessel, crept up. Up ahead, very close, was that open window. Now came the difficult part. It could have been simple for Will, with his sword throwing skill. Jack's aim was feeble. He took up the flammable bundle. A spark from a pistol lit it. The window drew nearer. When he hand started burning Jack chucked explosive towards the widow. It struck the edge, and split, and splashed. Jack winced. Luckily, the other half went spiraling into the ship. Smoke started happily billowing. 

            "Hey, back off! What are you doing, trying to collide with us?" A man appeared and glowered over the railing.

            "Whoa, apologies, matey, but these things don't steer so well, you know how it is." 

            The angry sailor's retort was cut off by a holler. 

            "There's fire! Fire below deck! All hands, below deck!" 

            The resulting clamor was music to Jack's ears. He lowered his sails, slowed to maneuver behind the ship. The preoccupied crew didn't notice a pirate rope his boat to their stern. Jack climbed like an inebriated monkey. Alone on the boat, Kathy stared in wonder. 

            Luck was with Jack. The crew had rushed below deck to check the spread of the "fire." That left, on the "safety" of the deck, the passengers. There was a little gaggle of them. A whole family of gentry, it looked like, with an uncle or two thrown in. 

            Jack suddenly appeared in their mist. He grabbed the nearest convenient female (a lass of maybe twelve), pressed a pistol to her head, and shouted, "Everybody stay clam. Ay'm here to plunder the ship!"

            Then he kicked the hatch shut. 

            The travelers froze like deer in the headlights. They might have laughed at the lone pirate who dared attack them, if he didn't hold a pistol. Which was held against the girls' head. 

            The mum, perhaps, screamed. That brought movement back to their stunned minds. But before the wigged group could stir, Jack began, 

            "Put your hands in the air, where I can see them."

            The captives warily raised their hands. Except for one lad, a bit shy of twenty. He fumbled for his pistol instead. Jack cocked his own. 

            "Ay wouldn't try that, son. What says you drop it?" 

            The hot-headed lad went white with rage. Hot, white, mute fury. But, he did drop his pistol and raise his hands. 

            "That's a good lad," Jack praised. He gestured with his head towards a few large, heavy coils of rope. 

            "Now, if you gents would kindly move those coils on top of this hatch, we might proceed without any sudden, unpleasant interruptions. Come, we really don't have all day, you know."

            The father and (maybe) uncle tried to follow the pirate's orders. It took a little longer than Jack liked. These gentry obviously hadn't done any labor for a spell. By the time they were finished Hot-Headed lad's face was contorted in anger. He glared evilly at Jack. Jack smugly smiled back. 

            But, to Jack annoyance, the girl had begun sniveling. 

            "What do you want with us, villain?" demanded another uncle in a shaking voice. 

            Jack shrugged, "Ah, the usual; watches, jewelry, interesting trinkets or papers, your hat…"

            "My hat?"  The man blinked. 

            To be sure, it wasn't half so fine a hat as Jack's but Jack knew a good one when he saw it. 

            "Aye," he then ordered the girl to remove the sack lopped through his belt. 

            She did, silently. If only Kathy would be so prompt. 

            "Now hold it open." 

            She did. 

            "We best be paying tolls now," Jack approached the first gentleman. It didn't take much prompting for the fellow to remove all rings, jewels, purse, and whatever he had brought to save from the 'fire.' Jack smiled amicably, even as he pressed the barrel into the girl's skull. 

            The amount of plunder really didn't make the raid that much worth it. Neither was it all that fun. Oh, it had been exceedingly amusing to see all the sailors scurrying below decks like so many scared ants. And it was funny to think of them trapped as he looted their passengers. But, the plundering part was dull. None of these wealthy landowners had any intention of being interesting. Except Hot-headed lad. But Hot-headed lad was annoying, really. However, one bright spot: Jack had acquired a rather nice hat. It even had a feather in it. 

            The imprisoned crew was really making a ruckus by the time Jack finished. 

            "This way, love," he directed the girl. Jack was careful not to take his eyes off the aristocrats. Even sheep could bite. So, they walked backwards towards the upper deck, backwards up the stairs, and backwards to the back of the ship. His boat was neatly pressed against the ships hull.  Jack pitched the sack into it. 

            "I'll not let you kidnap her!" squealed Hot-Headed lad. Jack looked, confusion written in his eyes. Oh, yes, the girl. He's forgotten he was still holding her. 

            "It appears you've sadly little say in the matter. But don't worry; I've no intention of taking on captives. For present." 

            Really, one girl was enough of a bother and the strength of two might prove unstoppable. 

            "You've been such a wonderful group of detainees today. The best, in fact, that Captain Jack Sparrow's been privileged to rob in a long while. However, Ay've still one more little favor to ask of you. A whim, really."

            "What now, you lousy bastard?" growled the Hot-headed lad. His companions looked rather abashed. 

            Jack's eyes went all hurt, "That's not very nice. But Ay'll forgive you that one. Into the captain's cabin! All of you!" Sparrow uncharacteristically raised his voice. The family hastened to obey. Jack ushered the girl back down the steps. 

            "Ay really appreciated your assistance, love, as Ay'd've had a hard time of it by me onesy," Jack thanked the girl. She stared blankly at him, but the pirate grinned, thrust her into the cabin, and shut the door. Jack roped the handles. That should keep them in there. 

            _WHACK!!_

            Sparrow whirled around. The crew was hacking intensely at the hatch. 

            _WHACK!!!_

            Obviously, it would not be long before they emerged. Now was the moment to for Jack to make his bows and sail away. 

            He descended back into his boat, cut the ropes holding to the ship, and began to drift off. Disaster struck at that moment. 

            "Uncle Jack?" called Kathy's voice from where it most certainly should not have been. Jack turned, lifted his eyes in horror. Standing on the retreating vessel's deck, floppy hair waving in the wind, scared eyes barely peering over the railing, was the girl. 

            "Might I ask what you are doing there?" Jack shouted up at her. 

            "Can you help me?" the girl whined, looking very lost. Jack waved his arms up and down. 

            "Jump and Ay'll fetch you! Can you hear me? Just dive off." 

            The girl looked very distressed and started crying. 

            "I can't! Come back!"

            "Its simple, all you has to do is fall. But now would really be the moment to attempt it." 

            Kathy didn't even look at her uncle. Her face turned red and her tears bubbled up and fell. Distantly, scuffles of feet sounded from the deck. The girl was suddenly yanked back. For a moment, Jack sort of stared, his brow furrowed. Best idea was to simply leave her. Solve a lot of problems at once. However, young Hot-head probably wouldn't be too fond of a girl who sailed with a pirate. 

            Jack's boat had drifted by now. With resignation, Jack threw off his coat, various pistols, knives, his sword, and lucky hat. But saved one cutlass. You never did know. Then he dived in.

            The ship steadily reappeared. The discarded rope fell into his hands. Jack felt a touch of déjà vu as he climbed. He scurried back up the rope, dropped down onto the deck, and turned at the sound of a pistol. 

            Hot-headed lad grasped Kathy in a headlock, allowing her feet to dangle above the deck. The pirate's niece gasped for air. An ugly pistol dug into her skull. Hot-headed lad smiled with evil satisfaction.

            "This looks awful familiar, doesn't it?" he growled at the dripping-wet Jack. 

            The rest of the ship was frozen. The crew and the gentry remained on the main deck, frozen, daring not to interrupt the delicate situation. 

            Jack slowly guided one hand to his wet cutlass. He wavered, unbalanced.

            "Son, how about you calmly surrender that there pistol, before you do something really stupid. Honestly, gentlemen do not go around shooting little girls, in the first place."

            The kid tightened his grip on Kathy. 

            "Don't touch that knife!" he shouted, "I'll shoot her unless you drop your weapon!"

            "That could be difficult as I haven't picked it up."

            "Put down your knife! And surrender! Surrender or I'll kill her!"

            Sparrow spread an arm complacently. 

            "By all means, shoot. Ay'll not discourage you. It's only that pistol I'm after."

            Confusion overcame the lad, for a second. Jack took advantage of his indecision and struck, taking a quick step to seize the gun. The boy saw the pirate. He panicked. Kathy fell to the deck with a thud. Someone shouted. The lad thrust the pistol at Jack's chest and fired. 

            The pirate recoiled at the impact. The lad had shot him! Shot him, Captain Jack Sparrow! The little upstart!

            Far away, Jack saw the lad. He held the smoking pistol in shock. There were scuffles and shouts. But Jack was all ready falling.  

**You have read to Chapter 3. You MUST have something to say. Feedback, peoples! We thrive on feedback!! And, it's my Birthday too. So I'd like some reviews cuz it's my b-day. Many thanks. **


	4. 4 Of 4

            The bullet pierced Jack, slicing below his collar bone and besides his shoulder. It hurt. Jack tried to smother the pain with his other hand. Blood curled and dripped in between his fingers. 

            Hot-Headed boy remained frozen, shocked that he had actually shot someone. The entire male population of the ship, however, darted towards the scene. 

            Jack took an involuntary step back. Kathy jumped at him. 

            "Uncle Jack!" She clung to his sash. 

             Jack again violently stepped back. The railing pressed into his skin. The crew began to close in on them. Now, literally up against a wall, there were little options to consider. So, he grabbed Kathy and fell over the railing. 

            Disappointed, the crew watched the pair plummet and splash into the sea. 

            Never put salt on a wound, or something to that effect. Good time to remember that. The bullet hole screamed in protest. Jack hung onto the girl with his good arm, the other one flailing uselessly. Bullets whizzed through the water trailing delicate bubbles. Jack fought to stay submerged. The water, he hoped, would obscure the pair from the shooters. He kicked madly, trying to put some distance between them. But the dead-weight of the girl dragged him down. His shoulder burned and stung and cramped. Shooting pains caroused all over his protesting body.  

            Ahead, bobbing on the surface was the faithful, drifting boat. Jack made for it, his lungs screaming for air. He had to surface. 

            The water churned as Jack popped his head up. He forced Kathy's mouth and nose into the air. Was she even still breathing, anyway? Jack heard shouts from the boat. He risked a glance behind him, only to get a bucket of salt water dashed into his face. The crew was still at the stern and if they had firearms Jack couldn't see them. But, he was in the frothing wake of the boat, very hard to aim through. Jack dived under again as bullets began whizzing too close for comfort. 

            Somehow, he stayed under for half a minuet. Then, his pain became unbearable. He surfaced again, dragging the girl in one arm. The water rolled and ripped at them. Swimming would've been simple if Jack had been healthy and alone, but now…A very scary thought of drowning entered the pirate's head. 

            Then, he realized that they had made it out the gunner's range. Mostly because the ship was still traveling forward. Yet, it could be trying to turn and pursue, but Jack would not risk another glance over his shoulder.   

            The patient little boat bobbed before them. Jack might've kissed it, but instead flung Kathy inside and dragged himself in. The girl was unconscious, but breathing. Quickly, Jack steered the vessel for the shallow waters and camouflage of the rocky shore. A ghastly stream of blood flowed down his shirt and pooled on the deck. By the time he reached the cliffs, Jack shook against himself. He felt an odd floating sensation and his shoulder went numb. Just to fling out the anchor sapped his strength.

            With shaking hands, Jack tore a piece of his shirt and tried to wrap it around his wound. He flopped, limp and exhausted, on the deck. If anyone came after them, they would find very little resistance. Jack watched Kathy out of narrow eyes. She had rolled over, catching her breath. Water dripped down her flushed cheeks. She locked eyes with Jack. 

            "Uncle…Why was…everyone… so mean?" Tears started falling too as she was too spent to wail. 

            Jack rolled over, "Kathy, it's about time you went back to where you came from." 

            Jack slept the rest of the day. Obviously, the ship did not pursue them, though the reason remained a mystery. Insurance, maybe? In any case, the boat remained unmolested until Jack felt well enough to pull up the anchor and sail back north. 

            At first, the girl would not shut up. She wailed and balled and shrieked and griped the entire first morning. Despite being shot while saving her, Jack was sorely tempted to pitch the wailing bundle overboard. The only thing that stopped him was the weight of Jane's letter in his pocket. 

            "Kathy," he finally gritted out. The girl had been standing by his side and letting out one long, loud, loathsome wail. But she then shut up and looked up.

            "Ay'll not take you back to Stuyvie's brig, all right? You can go where ever you bloody care because Ay don't really care. However, you cannot come back _with me." _

            Kathy's eyes went puppy-like, "Why not?!"

            Jack's eyes also went wide with innocent astonishment, "Why? Ay got bloody _shot _yesterday."

            "But I didn't shoot you, the ugly man did!"

            Jack took a knee to face her.

             "You complicate things. Not to say Ay can't work with complications, as Ay can, but they are best in moderation. Simply put, if you hadn't been there Ay wouldn't have been shot. And what's more, you don't know what you getting into, wanting to come back with me. Honestly, Kathy, Ay'm a bloody pirate! It sort of goes for granted that pirates don't have small children accompanying them. Unless they be kidnapped. Which you are definitely not. Therefore, you simply cannot come back with me."

            "But why!" she screamed frustrated. It was like talking to a parrot. Or a monkey.

            Jack pulled up his sleeve. He showed her the 'P' branded into his skin.

             "See here, does this mean anything to you?"

            "Yes," she declared.

             Jack was confused. 

            "No, it _does not mean anything to you," he said. _

            "Yes, it does!" 

            "It does not and Ay'll explain why. If you knew what it meant, you'd be afraid of me. It means 'pirate.' Which consequently says Ay steal and plunder and kill for a living. That brand's going to stay there till Ay is gone and rotten and _nothing is going to change that. And Ay'm not your father or ye brother _Ay'm_ ye __uncle. Ay have me own life going, and it clearly does not have much space in it for babysitting. To be completely honest, you don't blend into the entire pillage and plunder routine. You come with me and you won't survive."_

            He let that hang in the air for a moment. 

            "Savvy?"

            Kathy stared at him. Her eyes sparked, and her tiny fists clenched in rage. 

            "I hate you. I'm_ glad you got shot." _

            Before Jack could do anything she darted to the other side of the boat and buried herself in a blanket. 

            It was far past midnight. The ocean was glorious at night. It just stretched on and on, vast and unconquerable. The ghostly moon ghostly floated in the sky like a ship in the sea. The stars curved overhead, glistening and blinking over the serene ocean. Dark waters lapped against the boat. It swayed softly.

            Jack gazed out over the sea, at home and just drinking it in. He could do this for hours. To be without the sea, without a ship, was like being locked in a box without windows. He didn't feel at ease, however. And he didn't really know why. Bringing the little midget along would be absurd. If that were so, why was he unsettled? Probably needed some rum.

            Little lights of houses flickered on shore. Jack lazily gazed at them, wondering if he should drop off the girl now or just wait for morning. Well, probably didn't matter so much right now, he was in a dozing and drinking mood. He hadn't been drunk in a week and it was wearing on him. 

            Jack started dozing. He wasn't prepared when something latched onto his neck and sobbed into his hair. His eyes opened wide and he sat up alarmed.

            "Eh, love, what…?" He tried to push her away but Kathy wouldn't let go. She hugged him like a monkey and grasped his hair. 

            "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.  I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.  I'm-"

            "Might Ay ask why you be acting like this?" Jack asked the girl clinging to him. He was glad she avoided brushing up against his shoulder. She talked into his chest. Her voice was muffled. 

            "I didn't mean what I said I think you're the most wonderful person ever but I was just scared and I'm really, really sorry for saying that and I promise I won't ever do anything bad again and I won't be mean and I'll stay put when you tells me to stay put but can I please please please just stay with you?"

            Jack sighed. He gently pried her off to look her in the face.

            "Listen, love…" but then studied her eyes. He paused. They were dark and sad…but familiar. They blinked. 

            "Can I please just stay with you? I promise to be good. You are a very nice man. I love you, Uncle Jack. I really do." 

            Jack studied her and tried to figure out why the devil people called him a good man. He was rather convinced otherwise, after nearly getting hung twice. He was never out to help anyone but himself. Sure, he'd saved that hapless pair Will and Elizabeth. Because it wouldn't have damaged his plan. What did people see in him, anyway? Why would Jane ask for his help after twenty years of absence? He puzzled over it. Either everyone was a completely horrible judge of character or…or they saw something in Jack that he didn't see himself. 

            Oh bloody hell he needed to get bloody drunk badly. 

            "Fine. Fine! Ay change me mind. You can come with me. Temporarily. Until a better situation presents itself."  

Everything after the first word was lost on the blissful girl. 

            Jack crawled to the rudder, his niece still hugging him. _Turning soft._ _Gah. Jack wondered what the crew would say, better yet, what Ana-Maria would say. That might be pretty funny, actually. If the girl mainly stayed below decks during raids and learned to follow orders it would work. He was Captain Jack Sparrow anyway. He would make it work and would enjoy the process, bloody hell. _

            Jack turned the boat and sailed back south into the Caribbean Sea.   

**Hahahaha****! I finished writing it!! You finished reading it!! You get to review it!! Please with lots of treasure on top. Oh, and by the way HOW TALL ARE JOHNNY DEPP, ****ORLANDO**** BLOOM AND KEIRA KNIGHTLY RESPECTIVLY!! Reason for this random question? If you ever go to ****Disneyland**** visit the Gallery above the pirates ride (find the staircase). Go out into the courtyard and into another room. They have a little shrine to the movie in that room with props and costumes and artwork and the trailer running 24/7…er or at least during park hours. I'm trying to visualize Johnny Depp in that costume and figure he can't be six feet and as far as Keira Knightly goes…but anyway HOW TALL ARE THEY?????? **


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